


The Traffic Jam

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Car Desperation, M/M, Omorashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27190462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Steve first felt the urge to go to the bathroom around nine, but ignored it; there were exits or rest areas every few miles, and Bucky was driving along contentedly so he didn’t feel a need to ask for a stop immediately.Of course, that was before the traffic jam.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 11
Kudos: 73





	The Traffic Jam

**Author's Note:**

> I love this kink but man I need to post it anonymously. I love both car desperation and using something other than a toilet, so here we are. I hope you guys like it

Steve first felt the urge to go to the bathroom around nine, but ignored it; there were exits or rest areas every few miles, and Bucky was driving along contentedly so he didn’t feel a need to ask for a stop immediately.

Of course, that was before the traffic jam.

In two hours, they had moved less than a half mile, and Steve had to consciously keep himself from squirming. Sure, he and Bucky were a remarkably open couple—thanks to all of their combined trauma, they had to be—but this was embarrassing. He felt like a child with how badly he needed to go and wished he had said something as soon as his bladder had sent a signal up to his brain.

The problem with knowing someone as long and as well as he and Bucky did was that they noticed little things about each other, like the way Steve had started chewing his lip. “You okay?” Bucky asked, pausing his tapping of the steering wheel in time with the music from his carefully curated—with a lot of suggestions from Sam—road trip playlist.

Steve felt himself turning red. “I’ve, uh, gotta pee pretty bad,” he admitted, wishing he could sink through the floor and disappear.

The older man grimaced sympathetically. “Shit,” he said succinctly. “I’ll pull off as soon as we can, but…” Traffic wasn’t moving, and they were in the left lane. “Think you’ll be able to hold it that long?”

Looking around, Steve spotted a sign promising the next exit in five miles and groaned. There was no chance in hell, even if traffic picked up again as soon as they got around the curve that blocked their view of how long the jam really was. “Fuck,” he muttered, not knowing what he was going to do. Sure, he could walk to the right side of the road with the stopped traffic, but it was just a concrete barrier, not woods or anywhere else he could relieve himself. As a wave of urgency passed through him, he squeezed his legs together hard and bent over the tiniest bit.

“Anything I can do to help?” Bucky asked, knowing the answer even before the blond shook his head. He hated seeing Steve in pain or embarrassed, and this already seemed to be both. “Uh, feel free to do whatever you need to do.”

Now blushing furiously, Steve pressed his right hand into his crotch and squeezed for a moment. He knew logically that the pressure wasn’t actually going to hold anything in, but he still felt reassured. After a deep breath, he said, “I’m gonna be okay.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, but didn’t contradict him.

*

Thirty minutes later, it was clear just how not okay Steve was. He was squeezing his dick through his jeans rhythmically and rocking a little, not sure how he would make it another half an hour, much less to anything resembling a toilet. At this point, he was pretty sure even pissing against the jersey barrier on the right side of the road wasn’t possible; he didn’t think he would be able to walk across the three lanes to get there without wetting himself.

“Buck,” he managed. “It’s bad.”

The brunet reached over and squeezed Steve’s leg in a vain attempt at comfort. “Just piss in the seat,” he said. “We can get the car cleaned later and blame it on a dog or something.”

Steve shook his head stiffly. “Fuck, I can’t,” he moaned; he wasn’t being dramatic or thinking of the car—he didn’t think he could make himself let go and piss himself. Years of being toilet trained did that to a person. He closed his eyes against another wave and gasped when he felt a bit of liquid leak out of his cock. His jeans were already unbuttoned to take pressure off his bladder, and he slipped his hand inside his boxers to grip himself directly. His boxer-briefs were damp against the back of his hand, but the feel of his hand against his cock was good.

His wires must have gotten crossed, because he was suddenly feeling aroused while dying to pee, chubbing up a tiny bit in his hand. It wasn’t enough to keep him from pissing, but it took his mind off his desperation, both the simple arousal and wondering how it was happening. Glancing up at the tinted windows to reassure himself that nobody else could see, he slid down his zipper and gave himself a bit of a stroke, groaning as he did so.

Bucky looked over and grinned. “That’s one way to keep yourself from going,” he said. “I can give you some help if you want.”

Steve shook his head; the idea of accidentally pissing on Bucky’s hand was unthinkable.”I don’t think it’s gonna help for long,” he admitted, starting up a rhythm of tiny strokes even as tensed all his muscles against the need to pee. He couldn’t actually get hard, just a quarter of the way there at best, but it felt good and kept him from going.

Well, it did for a minute before a spurt, rather than a leak, of piss forced its way out, splattering against his hand and the inside of his boxers.

“Buck, I need… I’ve gotta go now,” he begged, squeezing his dick hard enough to hurt and take his erection away completely.

“Seriously, just go—”

“I can’t,” Steve told him again, close to tears from pain and embarrassment. “But, fuck, I’m gonna explode and it’s gonna happen anyway…” Another spurt, this one lasting over a full second, sprayed out and he panted from the effort required to keep it in.

The car was already in park thanks to how slow traffic was, so Bucky was free to unbuckle himself, turn around, and rummage frantically through the things in the backseat. It was a bit unfortunate, at the moment, that Steve insisted on keeping the car tidy, but the brunet crowed in victory when he found an option.

“I’ve got a bottle, lemme just empty it out the window,” Bucky said; he wasn’t about to chug it and end up in the same position a couple hours down the line. He opened his window just enough that he could dump the contents of the water bottle—not a reusable one, for which he’d been admonished by his boyfriend already—out onto the road. As soon as it was empty, he handed it to Steve. He knew it would be messy; he was very well acquainted with Steve’s dick, and the head wasn’t going to fit in the small opening, but at least it was something.

Steve reached blindly for the bottle with one hand as he fumbled his damp penis out of his pants and boxers with the other. “Fuck, fuck,” he muttered to himself as he started to dribble. His brain seemed to think that he was free to piss now that his dick was out, and it was taking every last ounce of his considerable strength to hold back.

Between the small opening of the bottle and the slipperiness of his wet dick, he struggled to get an angle that would get his piss in the bottle, and after a couple seconds of trying to figure it out, Steve just held himself by the cockhead and jammed the bottle against it. For a moment, nothing happened; his body was still fighting to hold on and hadn't gotten the message that it was okay to let go. Then there was a huge spray as the contents of his bladder all tried to vacate at once.

“Shit,” Steve gasped, both in relief and in shock as some of the piss got on his hands thanks to the bottle’s small opening and the strength of his stream. “Oh, fuck,” he moaned, not caring that his hands were wet as his bladder finally went from DEFCON one down to mere emergency and kept going. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Bucky was blushing, but it wasn’t from the piss. Steve’s moans were downright pornographic, verging on the noises he made in bed. “Yeah, sounds like it,” he replied, glad that the blond was focused on keeping to bottle and his dick at the right angle and wasn’t looking over to see Bucky shift a tiny bit in his seat.

The bottle was filling quickly with frothy yellow liquid, and Steve was honestly starting to panic. If he didn’t stop, he was definitely going to overflow it, but he was pissing full-force and still felt pretty desperate. “Buck, you’re gonna have to empty it so I can keep going,” he mumbled as he tried to rein in the stream. It weakened, but it was still there and wasn’t just a drip. “Fuck, I can’t stop going for you to dump it out the window,” he whimpered, and, once again, Bucky sprang into action.

“Hold it as much as you can, but this’ll keep it from getting everywhere,” the older man said, putting a sweatshirt down next to Steve. “I’ll wash it later, no big deal,” he added, knowing what his boyfriend’s protest would be.

Steve clenched his teeth and slowed his stream to a steady dribble. “Quick,” he told Bucky terse as he handed him the bottle and quickly pressed the sweatshirt to his crotch. A wave of desperation—how did it still feel so intense when he had already gone so much—hit and wetness bloomed in the fabric, but he managed to regain control. He nearly lost it again, though, when he heard the splatter of his piss being emptied onto the pavement outside Bucky’s window, but he squeezed as hard as he could and kept it to a drip. “Buck, I need it now,” he warned helplessly.

“Here, I’ve got it,” Bucky said, handing Steve the empty, slightly dented bottle before pulling away the sweatshirt.

Yet another spurt escaped before Steve could get the bottle situated, this one spilling over his already damp jeans, but he managed to get his slit positioned before he truly let go again. He heaved a sigh of relief as he was able to truly go again, piss pouring out of him and into the bottle. “Oh, God, that feels good,” he groaned, tilting his head back. He could feel arousal starting to swirl in his gut again, but he couldn’t afford to get hard when he still had to go, so he pushed it to the back of his mind and tried to force his stream out as quickly as possible.

The desperate feeling between his legs was starting to go away, and he sighed in relief. “Thank fuck you found this bottle,” he told his boyfriend, shifting his seat to try to get comfortable for the last bit from his bladder.

Luckily, his stream was slowing enough that he didn’t think they would have to empty the bottle again, so Steve just melted into his seat and let himself piss. Fuck, it felt good, and he hoped Bucky wasn’t looking because his dick was starting to stiffen a tiny bit and he didn’t feel like explaining that, especially since he didn’t really understand it himself. All he knew was that his bladder was deflating and his dick was perking up.

Finally, with the bottle around two-thirds full, his stream petered out into a steady drip, then an intermittent dribble, and finally nothing, though another spurt made its way out when Steve awkwardly managed to shake himself. “Do you have the cap for this?” the blond asked, taking the tiny piece of plastic from his boyfriend when it was offered and sealing the bottle. Thanking his lucky stars for the tinted windows, which had been a fucking blessing through all of this, he climbed into the backseat to dig clean clothes out of his backpack; even his shirt had gotten a bit of piss on it. He cleaned up efficiently, even stowing his clothes and the damp sweatshirt in a plastic bag, and got dressed before climbing into the front seat again.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled, embarrassment setting in again now that desperation and relief were off the table. “I, uh, really fuckin’ had to go.”

“No shit,” Bucky replied drily. He hoped that his sitting position looked natural, as he still had a tiny bit of a boner from Steve’s moans, and that the feeling between his hips was just arousal, and not the first inkling of a similar need. “It’s okay, babe. I’m just glad we had the bottle.”

**Author's Note:**

> Should I do a sequel/second chapter with a bit of sex (well, car handjobs) or a desperate Bucky or something? If you guys feel strongly, let me know in the comments


End file.
